Commit
by ILoveJorja
Summary: Sara escaped from Adam Trent's attack.  So how did Grissom handle the aftermath?  How did she?  I think their relationship changed that night.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Jeez, it's been months since I wrote a word. Months! So sorry! I made a couple stabs and they were pathetic. That was a major dry spell. Awful. Hope I can get back in the habit again.

No, I haven't forgotten those three poor Works In Progress twisting slowly, slowly in the wind out there either. I'm trying. There was a single image buried within the following that has been niggling me. Getting it out might be what I need.

Thanks to all of you who continue to read and write reviews and put me on your Favorites lists and ask for updates. That boosts my spirits. I hope the rest of you haven't given up on me. Every review is a drop of rain in the desert. I hope you know that.

Season 5 Episode #21. GSR. Hurt/Comfort/ Romance. M.

**COMMIT**

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Oh, dear God," Grissom said, absolutely horrified at the scene before him. Sara was locked inside the nurse's station with that _maniac_, that _rapist_, gripping her around the neck. Both of them were crouched on the floor.

"I think I'm just vibrating at the wrong frequency," Adam told her, his eyes wild.

Sara struggled to free herself but he just held her tighter and shoved something sharp against her neck. Feeling it, she stilled and waited for a chance.

Grissom stared at Adam. _Get your filthy hands off her. Don't you dare!_ His mind seemed to jump ahead, seeing Sara raped before his helpless, impotent eyes. Then her slender white throat was spouting blood, so much blood, the life draining out of her. _Dear God. No._

Sara looked up and locked eyes with Grissom. _Grissom! Help me!_ _I don't want to die!_

"Open the door," Grissom told the orderly as calmly as he could. The orderly fumbled with the keys.

"I can't...I don't have the right key..."

"Please open the door."

Adam saw his audience and scraped Sara's neck, both squirming. He shouted angrily, "Don't look at them! I will grind you, you bitch!"

Sara dropped her eyes to the floor and fought the panic and the bile rising in her throat.

"Okay, it's okay," she told Adam unsteadily.

Two things happened at once. Nurse McKay appeared at the other window and screamed at Adam. The orderly finally fit the right key in the lock. Adam yelled at the nurse to go away. He turned the shard on his own throat and slit it. His arterial blood spurted out.

Sara elbowed him hard in the chest and ran out the door, past Grissom, who seemed frozen in place. She ran all the way to the end of the hall and banged her outstretched hands against the barred window. Sara drew a ragged breath and then another.

Grissom went to Sara at last, feeling at a loss. _Would she push me away if I tried to hold her? Oh, Sara. My Sara._

Sara felt him behind her, the nervous energy radiating from him, his conflicted emotions. She turned and faced him.

"Are...are you okay?" he asked, extending his shaky hands toward her, then dropping them to his side.

"Yeah...uh...I will be," she told him, feeling the side of her neck, then looking at her hand. _No blood. Good._ The rain continued to pound outside and thunder rumbled.

Sara moved and stood against the wall, looking out the window. Grissom stood quietly nearby, listening. Watching her eyes. The play of emotions across her face.

"When my father died, my mother came to a place like this for a while for  
evaluation. It looked the same, it smelled the same. It smelled like lies," she said, her eyes distant, her voice bitter.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Crazy people do make me feel crazy," she told him, with a ghost of a laugh and a glance.

Grissom offered the only thing he could think of. "If you want, I can have somebody take your place."

Sara looked at him then, gratitude in her eyes. "I appreciate that. I do, I really do, but..."

Nurse McKay started to stride angrily toward them.

"I kind of made a decision to move beyond that and...I really want to finish this case," Sara told Grissom bravely.

The nurse rudely interrupted. "We have rules for a reason."

Grissom turned to look at her with disbelief.

"You people come in here disrupting things. You're unsafe. This is your fault," she barked. Grissom moved to stand protectively in front of Sara.

"Really," he said, astonished.

"You seem to take your job rather personally," Sara told her. There was an edge to her voice.

"What are you suggesting?" the nurse snapped.

"That you had an intimate relationship with Adam Trent." The nurse scoffed and strode away, leaving the CSIs alone. They exchanged a look.

"Let's, uh, finish up here for the night," Grissom said, and she nodded. They processed and bagged evidence efficiently, both eager to escape. They conversed quietly, but only about the case. Everything else was too raw.

He seemed preoccupied as he was driving back to the lab, just glancing at her from time to time. Sara felt the energy drain from her muscles, the adrenaline flowing out, leaving only pained weakness behind. It was an effort just to stand, to walk, yet alone carry the bags inside. Grissom stayed close beside her as they went from lab to lab to drop their bundles and leave their instructions.

She followed him to his office dumbly and watched as he deposited the file on his desk. Understanding by his body language that he didn't intend to look it over until the next shift, Sara turned to go. She felt ready to collapse at his feet.

"G'night Griss," she said tiredly.

She was almost out the door when he blurted out, "Can I buy you a drink?"

Sara froze in place then turned slowly to look at him. He was twisting his hands before him. _Wringing his hands_, she thought. _Always wondered what that looked like._  
His eyes were wide and he looked...terrified.

Sara almost laughed. But the whiteness around his eyes smothered humor. Abruptly she wanted to comfort him. _But I was the one attacked_, she thought muzzily. The silence stretched out a little as she struggled to speak with a tongue that suddenly felt sticky and dry. _Yeah. I do need a drink._

"Sure. A drink...a drink would be good."

He exhaled visibly and smiled, then took her elbow lightly, and led her out the door. 

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow! What a great response to Chapter One. I can't remember ever getting so many Story Alerts so quickly. Thank you, one and all, and even more for the great reviews. I've missed opening my mailbox to get those. I hope I can live up to expectations!

**COMMIT**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Grissom drove. Sara was silent beside him. Her fingers flexed and clenched, stretched out and curled inward in her lap. She stared intently through the rain-streaked windshield as if she were the one driving and needed to pay heed. Grissom's hands were tight on the wheel. Knuckles white.

Gris glanced at her uneasily. He drew a breath, to say something, but as usual, words failed him. They lay, inert and jumbled, on his tongue. He felt like if he parted his lips they would spill messily in his lap. On his shirt, like spaghetti sauce or-blood spatter. Again the video clip hummed and started up jerkily across the screen in his brain. Sara. Trapped. Like a white stoat in a steel bear trap. Or a white rabbit, silently screaming. Her ivory column of a throat slit. Violated. That whiteness, that satin skin, that perfection of feminine attractiveness and vulnerability...penetrated. Stained. The blood squirting out obscenely.

"No!" Grissom blurted out.

Sara flinched. "Huh?" she grunted, startled. Her eyes narrowed at him.

"Sorry. I..." His voice trailed away. Grissom cleared his throat, glanced at her with a troubled expression, then returned his attention to the road. Sara sighed. _I don't know what to say either. I can't...I can't stop thinking about it._

Grissom eased off the gas and flicked on his turn signal, the tires scrunching wet gravel, into an anonymous bar's parking lot. He pulled into a slot at the far end, in the dripping shadows, and cut the engine. In the silence that followed the air seemed thick. The radiator pinged distantly.

"Let's..." he said heavily.

"Yeah." She shoved open the door and unfolded her long limbs, like a bird flexing her sleek wings, then strode quickly toward the bar. Grissom hurried through the heavy rain after her. Sara jerked the battered door open and took a step inside, then stopped abruptly. Grissom was unable to halt in time and bumped into her, pushing her forward half a step. His hands landed on her hips. And stayed.

Sara stilled her feet in place and looked at him over her shoulder. When their eyes met she smirked. Grissom's eyebrows popped up and he gazed at her, looking startled. Sara puffed out a breath in amusement at his expression.

"You must really want that drink!" she quipped.

Gris seemed to welcome the ease in tension.

"Why'd you stop?" He smirked back.

"Dark in here," she muttered. "Uh. Gris?"

"Yeah?" He seemed dazed. Unaware that he was tightly gripping the tender flesh covering her pelvis.

"Ya wanna let go a' me?"

"Oh!" He released her abruptly and held his hands up as if in surrender.

"Jeez. Will you relax?"

"Sorry," he muttered and followed her to the bar.

They eased onto adjoining barstools in unison, as if performing a dance. The synchronicity continued as they settled in, placed their elbows on the bar, and gazed at the bartender expectantly. Leaning at the far end, he was watching them with interest. The man eased to a stop before the pair.

"What can I get you folks?"

"Jack. Neat."

"And for the gentleman?"

Grissom gaped a bit, then decided. "The same."

Two shotglasses clinked and steadied on the polished wood. The bottle gurgled and amber liquid poured out the narrow spout into each. The CSIs watched intently. When the bottle was withdrawn, both reached out in unison.

Grissom's hand shook visibly but he tossed it back, swallowed, grimaced, and put it down. Sara's glass was empty too.

"Another." Her voice quavered. Sara chewed her bottom lip a moment, as if frustrated. "Please."

Again the ritual. Again both drained their shots in a swallow. This time they slowed and relaxed. Sara drew a deep breath and exhaled.

"Leave the bottle?" Grissom asked. The bartender shrugged and moved away. Grissom poured them both another shot. They sipped this one.

Grissom spun a quarter turn on his barstool and faced her, his knees parted, one hand on the counter, the other in his thigh.

"Sara." He swallowed. "Sara, I, uh..."

"Yeah?" Her voice was soft. Eyes down.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." His voice was pained.

Sara waved a slender hand dismissively. "Not your fault."

"No! It is, it _is_ my fault!" His voice got loud suddenly, and the other patrons looked up.

"Shh."

His voice dropped obediently. "I never should have left you in there," he hissed. "Never. All alone."

Sara spoke automatically. "I should have been paying more attention. It wasn't your..."

"Stop." There was an edge of anger to his voice.

"What?"

"Stop blaming yourself. Stop...letting me off the hook. Sara, I..." She looked at him until he gathered himself and spoke. "I could have lost you." He sounded bleak.

Sara looked to him then pulled back. "Yeah. Then you'd be down a CSI." Her voice was low. Defeated.

"NO! No, I could have lost _you_, Sara. You!" His voice boomed again. His eyes were intense. They seemed to burn her skin.

"Okay! Okay," Sara soothed, then looked him in the face, considering. She took him in with care. He was a mess. Clothes wrinkled, blue windbreaker and hair wet, face lined with guilt and fatigue, tight with anxiety. His chin was stubbly and smudged with dirt. "Look. Uh. Why don't you go, uh, get cleaned up a bit?"

Grissom drew back, straightened. His eyes went cold and blank again. Nodded. Stood and walked to the rear of the barroom, only stumbling once.

Sara watched his progress, sighing in disappointment. _I just blew it. Again. Shit. He looked like he was going to say something. Dammit._

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**COMMIT**

**CHAPTER THREE**

**commit**/ 1 (usu. foll. by _to_) entrust or consign for: a) safe keeping b) treatment, usu. destruction c) official custody as a criminal or as insane 2) perpetrate, do 3) pledge, involve, or bind (esp. oneself) to a certain course or policy 4) (as "committed" adj.) (often followed by _to_) a) morally dedicated or politically aligned b) obliged c) memorize

A few minutes later, Grissom returned to the bar, looking a lot better. Sara sensed him hesitating behind her and spun around on her barstool. After looking him over carefully, she returned his shy smile.

"You were right," he said. "I was a mess."

"That's okay," she said. "It's understandable. I probably am too!"

She stood and moved to the side to go freshen up as well.

Grissom grabbed her arm. "Wait." Sara flinched, involuntarily. He dropped her arm as abruptly as if he had burned her. "Uh, sorry. There's something...I've been wanting to do...for hours."

"What's that?"

Grissom opened his arms in silent invitation. Sara moved immediately into his embrace. Grissom slid his arms around her shoulders and buried his nose in her hair. She trembled as she hugged him lightly around his waist. Grissom pulled her closer.

"I was..." he said, rocking slightly. "I was so scared, honey."

"Me too," she answered, muffled by her face buried in the crook of his neck. _Honey?_

They held each other for long minutes. Sara sniffled a little and he murmured little words of comfort. Finally she broke away and quickly wiped the tears from her face.

"I'll, uh, be right back." He nodded. She took a few steps and then turned back. "Grissom?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Anytime." Again the hesitant little smile, which she returned. Sara made her way to the ladies room, a bit unsteadily.

Grissom sighed deeply, stepped back to the bar, and pulled out his wallet. He laid some bills on the wooden surface and caught the bartender's eye.

"Can I have two large ice waters, please?"

"Coming up." He rang up the drink purchase and then returned.

Grissom gulped down his water then pushed it back for a refill. Sara returned with her face scrubbed and pink, her hair pulled back in a loose knot, and her clothes a bit tidier.

"Hi."

"Hey." Grissom watched her from the corner of his eye. He was feeling a little braver now. Whether it was the alcohol or the hug, or both, he didn't care.

"Did you want any more?" he waved at the bottle of Jack Daniels.

"No thanks. It's going right to my head." Sara drank her water gratefully.

Grissom kept sneaking little looks at her. Finally he blurted, "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" she asked, puzzled.

Grissom touched his fingers to his own neck, the same spot that was scraped and reddened on hers.

"Oh. That." Sara pulled her collar up, and shrugged. "No."

"It looks like it does," he countered.

"It's fine. I'm fine."

"Can I...can I do anything?"

Sara said lightly, with that Sidle lilt, "Kiss it and make it better?"

Grissom's eyes darkened. His nostrils flared as he took a quick deep breath. He immediately leaned in, tilted his head and...gently, oh so gently, brushed his lips across that mark on her neck. Just a whisper of a touch. Sara shivered. Back and forth, not a kiss, just a light touch of the lips across her skin.

It was almost...reverent, Sara thought. It tingled, and the tingling spread.

And then, his lips parted, just slightly, just a little, and Grissom moved his moist lips across her throat. Sara made a soft "oh" sound and her head fell back. Inviting him. The lips brushing became a tiny kiss. The kisses became larger and firmer. A frisson of pleasure ran up her spine and along her scalp. And then, he swept his tongue across that same injured place. She really did moan this time, a deep sound of need.

Grissom became bolder. He spread his adoring kisses up and down her throat, down to her shoulder, up and along her jaw, down again to the hollow between her collarbones. He delighted in feeling her pulse race through her veins, feeling the goosebumps spread, and hearing her breath hitch.

Grissom kept his hands on the bar rail, gripping it, and hers were limp in her lap. Was it more arousing than if their hands were all over each other? she wondered. In any case, Sara thought she had never experienced anything as erotic as this in her life. Heat flared in her sex. Every nerve just under her skin was pulsing with energy.

She rolled her head to the side and started kissing his neck too, keeping the pressure and intensity in tune with his. Grissom felt his heart pound and his fingers tremble, itching to explore. His cock was as hard as steel. Every touch of her lips was heavenly torture. He groaned.

They nuzzled each other. Kissed, licked, suckled and nibbled gently. Giving and receiving this intense, comforting, passionate, reassuring and sexually charged pleasure. Necking. Like horses, or swans, or giraffes.

Sara laid her palm on his thigh, feeling the tensed muscles there. Reluctantly, Grissom pulled away and looked into her eyes. He saw her passion and arousal. And had no doubt that the same was in his eyes.

"Sara." The name was a caress.

"Hmm?" She looked dreamy.

"We should go."

"Okay." She would have done anything, anything at all, he asked her to at this point. Grissom slid his hand around hers, still on his thigh, and threaded his fingers between hers. He ran a finger down her jaw then stood, tugging her with him.

Grissom turned toward the door.

"Wait." Sara said firmly.

He looked back at her, an eyebrow raised.

Sara cupped a slender hand to his cheek and kissed him.

**TBC**

**A/N**: Please send a review? To HeartsandEyesDelight–this is the image–the GSR nuzzling–that made me write this story. Thanks for asking.


	4. Chapter 4

**COMMIT**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The kiss didn't last long. It didn't need to, somehow. There was a shift between them, a new ease, a promise made. They broke contact in unison and exchanged a smile that reached to their eyes. At last. There was a new future to anticipate. A better one.

Sara knew–had always known–that once this barrier had been breached, this threshold crossed, there would be no turning back. Grissom did not take his commitments lightly, nor waver once they were made. Once you earned his loyalty it was yours.

"Hey," said Sara, warmly.

"Hey yourself." Grissom replied, smiling back at that pretty face. He blew out a breath and looked around, as if trying to remember where he was and how they got there. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat."

"Me too."

"It's been a helluva day. I'm not used to so many emotional...upheavals." She nodded. "Ready to go?"

"Sure. Are you, uh, okay to drive?"

"Sure, I'm not intoxicated. Well...I am intoxicated with you."

Sara grinned at him. "That was smooth." Grissom smiled back at her.

They slowly walked to his car, still holding hands. The rain had finally stopped. The drive to Sara's apartment was in comfortable silence, with little glances at each other, and secretive smiles, remembering their makeout session at the bar. Once he reached Sara's apartment, he turned to her.

"I'd like to see you outside of work. I'd like to take you on a date." Grissom spoke quietly.

"I'd like that too," she said encouragingly.

"So, dinner? As soon as we get some time off together?"

"Sounds great."

"Good."

"Good."

Sleep took them easily, in their separate beds. Sara awoke refreshed and cheerful, with only a dull headache to remind her of the shots of liquor. Grissom called as he was leaving to pick her up.

"Hi."

"Hi Grissom." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Um, are you sure you don't want to take a night off?" he said uncertainly. "I think your supervisor would understand."

"Thanks, but...I still want to close this. I'm fine."

The case had been broken with the discovery of the nurse's sexual relationship with the violent rapist. It didn't take long to learn that she was his mother as well, which made it all the more sick, sad, and twisted. Sara had mixed emotions. Even though she could have been Adam's victim, he was also a victim in this case, the case she was committed to solve. Sara Sidle and Jim Brass then had the difficult task of interrogating Joanne McKay. Sara confronted her with the DNA evidence.

"My son needed me," she retorted.

"For what? To destroy his ego? To fill him with guilt? To make him hate himself so much he would take his own life just to be free of you?" Sara asked with disgust.

"You have no idea what goes on between us."

Brass was next. "Bet it's tough to turn a folie a deux into a menage a trois. N'est-ce pas?"

"Even tougher that your son was cheating on you ... with a man no less," Sara said. The nurse's only reaction was a look of anger and disgust. "But he didn't end it, did he?" Sara went on. "Robbie was lover's leverage. He was that thing that Adam kept in his back pocket and pulled out whenever he needed to distance himself from you."

"So you had no choice but to get rid of Robbie. And being a good nurse, you knew his trigger. You manipulated the situation and took advantage of his weakness," Jim Brass said.

"Exactly what you have been doing to Adam for the past twenty years. And being such a good mother, you made him cover it up. Again."

"Why would my son do that?"

"Because he loves you as much as he hates you."

"You can't prove any of this."

"Just the incest, which is a Class B felony. It carries a penalty of up to ten years."

"That's ten years away from Adam," Sara added.

"Good luck getting him to testify," McKay said sarcastically. Both Brass and Sara silently acknowledged the truth of that.

Sara gathered her things and left the room as an officer handcuffed the nurse and read her her rights. She joined Grissom in the observation room. He took note of her posture and expression but made no comment on either. When Nurse McKay was led away, Grissom turned and looked at Sara.

"Well, jail or no jail-I don't think she'll last six months. She'll die without her son."

"Then that would be better for both of them," Sara said bitterly.

Grissom nodded and quietly left the room, recognizing her need for space and solitude to process this along with everything else. It took a few days and some routine cases and normal shifts before it seemed appropriate to go on a date. Their first date. Grissom made a reservation at a fine restaurant and they both dressed up.

Once the food was ordered he took her hand. For the first time since their night at the bar. The contact, palm to palm, warmed and reassured them both. They looked at their linked hands. Grissom was the first to speak.

"Sara. This is...a big deal to me."

"I know. It's a big deal for me too."

"I don't have a good history with long-term relationships. I was starting to think I would never have one." She nodded with understanding.

"So I don't want to rush...I don't want to screw it up. I probably will, at some point, so please be patient with me?"

Sara snorted. "Just what do you think I've been doing all these years?"

"Of course! I didn't mean that...I just...I'm...see, I'm already getting it wrong!"

Sara smiled her gap-toothed smile. "It's okay. I know you're trying. Guess you finally figured out what to do about 'this'?'

"Yeah. I did. I do." Sara could see the insecure teenager behind his impassive grownup mask. Her heart melted a little more. _Who hurt you, Gil? And why?_

Sara paused, then said hesitantly. "I do have a temper."

"I noticed," he said dryly.

"Is that, uh, a problem? Is it why you've been dragging your feet?"

"No. It's who you are. You're passionate. It's actually a turn-on. Sometimes."

"Rea...lly?" Sara drawled.

"Yeah," Grissom admitted. "Makes me want to kiss that smart mouth of yours."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"Is this," she released his hand and waved between them, "going to change how we work together?"

Grissom considered carefully. "I've been thinking about that."

Sara chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Yeah." There was a ghost of a laugh in his voice too. "I know you're a professional. And you understand that I can't give you preferential treatment. I think we'll be good."

"Yeah. I think so too."

"We can agree to keep our private life and our working life separate?"

"Sure. So no kissing at work?" Sara teased.

"No kissing."

"Holding hands? Necking?"

"Nope." Grissom was enjoying their banter. He'd missed it.

"Sex in the office?"

"Sidle!"

"Yes, boss." Sara laughed. "I'll behave. Promise. If anything, this will improve our working conditions."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Less tension. Plus you won't have to hide from me."

"I don't..."

"Yes you do."

"Only when I know you're going to rip me a new one!"

"Well, I won't have to, if you stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about."

Grissom considered. "I promise."

The food arrived then and it was easy to concentrate on that and make comments and light conversation for the rest of the evening. They both were the type to think before they acted and this was a lot to think about.

It was years later, after many upheavals, separations and reunions, traumas and joys, before Grissom and Sara made their commitment official. But this is where it began.

**THE END**


End file.
